


Dead Boy Walking

by lovelessinqueens



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, sex is implied but not described at all, some scandalous content o.O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelessinqueens/pseuds/lovelessinqueens
Summary: Baz had always imagined the day would come, but he never believed that it actually would.Someone had told Professor Benedict that he was a vampire, and now he was to be stricken from the Book.The news had spread around Watford like wildfire. Every student now knew of the burden that Baz had carried upon his shoulders for years, one in which he was careful protecting in order to make sure it wasn’t discovered. And yet, despite all of Baz’s hard work to keep his being a vampire a secret, someone had still found out.





	Dead Boy Walking

_ The demon queen of high school has decreed it, She says Monday, 8am I will be deleted _

Baz had always imagined the day would come, but he never believed that it actually would.

Someone had told Professor Benedict that he was a vampire, and now he was to be stricken from the Book.

The news had spread around Watford like wildfire. Every student now knew of the burden that Baz had carried upon his shoulders for years, one in which he was careful protecting in order to make sure it wasn’t discovered. And yet, despite all of Baz’s hard work to keep his being a vampire a secret, someone had still found out. 

Rumor had it that it was Simon Snow, the golden boy of Watford, who had been the one to learn and spill Baz’s secret. But Baz  _ knew _ it was Wellbelove-- the girl had caught him hunting the night that Simon and Penelope were whisked away by the Humdrum. And she was always around Simon, granted, they were dating (were, as in past tense), who was always babbling on about how Baz was a vampire (Baz was honestly surprised it wasn’t Snow who had outed him).

Baz had no doubts that Professor Benedict would inform the Mage of the news that he was a vampire. Baz was convinced that Professor Benedict hated him-- he taught Elocution, and always seemed irritated with Baz, who believed that it was because he was a good student. (“There’s nothing he can teach me!” Baz had ranted to Fiona one night. “Oh, get over yourself,” she had said.)

So maybe Baz’s fourteen year-old self had ruined his relationship with Professor Benedict, but that didn’t mean he had to jump on the chance to get Baz out of Watford for good.

So Baz, in a rare state of panic, had used _A Little Bird Told Me_ to explain to Fiona what had happened. She said to leave Watford at once and return home, where they would decide what to do with Baz.

Would they hide him somewhere safe, away from the World of Mages? Would they keep him at home? Would they send him away to the Covent Garden, along with dozens of other vampire outcasts? 

Baz didn’t know. And he really didn’t want to find out. 

Ebb, Watford’s resident goatherd, had even offered Baz help 

She had stopped him for a brief moment earlier that day, telling him of how her own brother was stricken. She had cried while explaining it all to him, and simply insisted that Baz run away before he could be caught. 

“I wish my Nicky could’ve gotten away,” Ebb had managed to say through her tears. “We could’ve escaped and gone somewhere together, away from all this.” 

As much as Baz wished he could stay at Watford, he, too, knew he had to escape while he could. He knew his family (and Ebb) were right. They would know what to do. They would keep him safe. And besides, Baz would rather leave school on his own terms than be forced to go, which he knew would happen if he stayed. 

_ They'll hunt me down in study hall, Stuff and mount me on the wall _

But, even if Baz could get away from Watford without being stricken, who knew how long he would last before he was found again?

The Mage would surely send Simon after Baz, with the intentions of either capturing or killing him (and all for the greater good, the Mage would surely insist). 

Baz knew that Simon wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

Simon  _ had _ to kill Baz. It had been prophesied that he would.

_ And one will come to end us. And one will bring his fall. _

Baz didn’t care what the Mage said about the Humdrum-- he was convinced that he was supposed to die at the hands of Simon Snow.

Simon and Baz had been butting heads since their first year at Watford.

Their relationship had gotten off to a bad start (on their first day of school, nonetheless) at the Crucible Ceremony, where Baz had refused to shake Simon’s hand, despite the pulling and itching in his stomach (which he did eventually give in to).

Simon found Baz intimidating his first year at Watford. Hell, Simon found everything intimidating that first year. But Baz…Baz was a different story.

Baz was intimidating to everyone. With his dark hair and pale skin, with his features that were sharper than knives, with his power and his magic. With his ruthlessness and passion, with his grace and strength.

He looked liked a villain. He was, technically, according to the Mage, and Snow, and almost everyone else at school. (Baz would’ve liked to argue that being apart of the Old Families didn’t necessarily make him a villain, but figured that would prove their points of him being evil.) Simon stayed far away from Baz first year. (Well, as far away as he could. They  _ were _ roommates.) 

Until one uneventful day, when Baz was being an absolute prick. He was nagging Simon about his life, his non-existent family, and everything else his irrational brain could conjure up. Simon couldn’t help himself as he turned around and punched Baz, hitting him right on the nose.

After that, Simon and Baz were always at wit’s end with each other. Pestering pranks pulled, polecats hidden in wardrobes and fire breathing chimeras sent to attack. Curses were spat at one another, and professors rolled their eyes at the immense hatred between the two boys. 

It was all jokes at Watford. But surely some of their rivalry at school would translate to the real world. The real world, where Simon would have to kill Baz. 

It would all end then-- their years of tricks and games would be over when it happened. Simon would go down as the hero who saved the day, Baz the villain whom everyone hated (and secretly adored, though, no one would admit it). 

But regardless of it all, Baz was certain that it would happen. That Simon would kill him, though, he didn’t know when exactly. 

Soon, he assumed. Too soon.

It was all too soon for Baz to be shunned by the World of Mages, and for him to possibly lose his life.

_ Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them? _

Baz was surprised at how quickly everything was happening, and wondered how long he had before the Mage returned. He was sure he didn’t have much time-- the Mage was away on a business trip to Netherlands, but was sure to return at the news of Baz’s vampirism.

All that was running through Baz’s mind was to leave. He hurried off to the kitchen for food. He was sure Cook Pritchard wouldn’t mind (even if she did know that Baz was a vampire), then creeped out the back door. 

All he had to do before he left was gather his things. Pack his bags, then go. Get away from Watford. Away from everyone who surely hated him now. Away from the place that felt like more of a home than his own house. Away from Simon Snow…

Simon Snow.

The boy Baz had loved since he was twelve. The boy he still does love, years and years later, regardless everything the world had thrown against him. Regardless of what the world still continued throw at him.

Simon Snow.

The light of Baz’s life. The one person he despised so greatly, but also loved wholly. The boy he would always love, and would think of constantly when he left. Snow had always been the one thing Baz was sure of in life, and Baz was certain that Simon would remain to be his rock, even if he was a few hundred miles away from the golden haired boy.

Simon Snow.

Baz had imagined thousands of times what life would be like if Simon Snow felt even a fraction of what Baz did. He figured his days at Watford would be much more tolerable if he and Snow were on the same side. If he and Snow were friends. If he and Snow were  _ more _ than friends.

It was a tragedy, Baz was convinced, that he and Snow couldn’t ever be together. He thought they would be perfect together-- somehow they already were. Simon was the sun, Baz the moon. Simon was the light of Watford, and Baz the mysterious shadow. They matched in every way, and Baz was certain that there would be no one who could compare to Simon Snow. (That was  _ if _ Baz met someone who could love him and who wasn’t repulsed by his being a vampire.)

Baz sighed as he cautiously started walking across the Great Lawn, carefully scanning for professors and students.

He knew in his heart that Simon Snow was surely destined for someone much better than himself. Besides, Simon was straight. He had dated Agatha for years, and Baz was sure he wasn’t interested in hearing a sappy proclamation of love. Not from his roommate. And certainly not from his roommate, who just so happened to be his enemy as well. (That was just Baz’s luck, he had discovered over years.) 

_ Wait.  _

Baz gasped and quickened his walking pace, even more desperate to get back to his room.

_ Spend these thirty hours getting freaky! _

It was then that Baz realized what he needed to do.

He would be damned if he left Watford forever without confessing his love to Simon Snow.

It was crazy and irrational, and a bit bold for Baz, but he’d decided to do it anyways.

Nothing bad could happen, anyways. It’s not like Snow could shun him or give Baz shit for it-- he was to be leaving Watford later that night for his home in Hampshire.

Baz set his jaw, and started running back to his and Simon’s shared room. He did his best to avoid every professor and student while he ran, though, he could’ve sworn he had seen Miss Possibelf out of the corner of his eye.

If he was right, if he had seen her, she had probably seen him as well. But, the figure remained silent, and simply watched as Baz snuck around the school, dodging in and out of shadow. 

The few students Baz did see ran away at the sight of him-- out of fear, he supposed-- as he charged across the grounds of Watford and through the halls of Mummers House, up the spiraling staircase.

He swung the door open to his room and moved briskly, throwing as many clothes and books in a bag that would fit. He quickly spelled the posters on the wall so they all flew into his bag, then magicked it shut. 

Once Baz finished, he sat down on the bed and ran his hand across the duvet.

_ This is it _ , he thought.  _ My last moments at Watford. _

A moment later, the door swung open.

Baz jumped up, his wand at the ready, though, he lowered it when he saw that it was only Simon who had entered.

“Calm down,” Simon exclaimed, his hands up in surrender. “S’just me.” 

“Sorry,” Baz sighed, hiding his wand away in his pocket sleeve. “I thought you were someone else.” 

Simon nodded. “That’s understandable, with all the…you know...”

“With all the fanged business?” Baz offered.

Simon nodded again. “Yeah. That.”

“I would’ve figured that you were the one to tell the Mage,” Baz admitted after a moment. 

“Baz...why? It wasn’t me, I--”

Baz cut him off. “I know, Simon.”

“Really? Wait, who told him then--”

Baz cut him off again. “It was Wellbelove.”

“ _ What _ _? _ ” Simon exclaimed. 

Baz nodded.

“That’s not true,” Simon said. “She would never do that.”

“Oh, but she would.” 

“How do you know that? She’s in  _ love _ with you Baz! More than she was with me.”

“I don’t believe it,” Baz said through gritted teeth. “If she loved me, would she have turned me in?”

“I guess not.”

Baz sighed and shook his head. “Snow?”

“Yeah?” Simon looked up at Baz, confused. 

“I-- I wanted to tell you that…that, well…”

“Well?”

Baz couldn’t do it.

The one thing he wanted to do before he left was confess his love to Simon Snow, and he couldn’t even work up the guts do that.

“I wanted to tell you that I have to leave now.”

“What?” Simon’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I have to go,” Baz repeated, grabbing his bag from where it sat on the floor. “Goodbye, Snow.”

“Baz, wait!”

_ You're my last meal on death row _

Baz hesitated at the door, his hand hovering over the handle. He felt Simon’s gaze on his back, and could tell he was confused as to why Baz hadn’t left yet.

Baz let out a nervous breath, and turned to face Simon. 

“Baz?”

He could tell Simon was weary and on edge. It was almost unnerving to see him so defenseless and exposed, and worried for fuck’s sake. 

Baz was still uncertain on what he would do. 

Simon was standing right there, inches away from him. Oh, how easy it would be to just say it. Make it known that Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch was in love with Simon Snow.

On the other hand, Baz couldn’t formulate his words, and he struggled to figure out what exactly he would say. Snow surely wouldn’t care, but still. Baz felt as though even his worthless confession of love had to be scripted, edited to perfection. 

Baz was unaware of what he had decided until it was happening. “Fuck it,” he said at last, grabbing the sides Simon’s face, pulling him and pressing his lips to his.

Simon gasped against Baz, his body frozen and in shock. 

Baz pulled back at once, seemingly aware of what he had just done. He looked even paler than he had a moment ago, his ashen hands shaking uncontrollably. 

And before Baz could spit out an apology, Simon’s mouth met his for a second time. Snow took charge, tilting his head and pushing Baz’s back further.

“How long have you wanted that?” Simon asked once they had pulled apart, though their mouths remained inches away, their foreheads still pressed together.

“A while,” Baz murmured, eyeing Simon’s lips.

Simon took the cue and wasted no time in kissing Baz again.

Baz turned his head away from Simon. “How long have you wanted this?”

“Long, I think,” he said, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind Baz’s ear. “I just didn’t realize it ‘til now.” 

“I’ve loved you for ages,” Baz revealed, facing Simon again. “Almost since we met. I thought it was going to kill me.”

“I thought  _ I _ was going to kill you,” Simon whispered. He was playing with Baz’s hair still, strands of black wrapped around his fingers.

Baz closed his eyes, swaying slightly at Simon’s touch, and gave a short laugh. “Me too.”

“I don’t think I could’ve,” Simon said. “Killed you, that is. I wouldn’t have had it in me.”

“I tried not to think about it. I don’t quite like the idea of the boy I love killing me.”

Simon stood up on his tip toes, slowly, almost calculatingly, craned his head upwards to reach Baz’s mouth. “You love me?”

“‘Course,” Baz said, taking Simon’s hands into his own. “Almost since we met.”

“How did I not know?” Simon asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

Baz shrugged. “I guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Simon grinned, his eyes trained on Baz’s mouth.

Baz noticed Simon’s gaze, and took him by the back of the neck, pulling him closer and closer until there was no space between them. Simon couldn’t help but sigh as his lips met Baz’s, fingers in hair and knees touching. 

_ You say you're numb inside, but I can't agree _

“No, wait,” Baz uttered in realization, turning his head away from him.

"Baz, what’s wrong?” Simon asked, an expression of concern immediately taking over his face.

“We can’t be together. We especially can’t be doing  _ this _ _. _ ”

Simon’s face fell. “What? Why not?”

“Because.”

"Because why?”

“Because…” Baz hesitated. “Because of everything that’s happened. Because of what I am.”

“I don’t care what you are,” Simon assured, stepping closer to Baz, who instinctively backed away.

“But, Simon,” Baz murmured. “You can’t actually love me.”

“And why not?” Simon challenged.

Baz looked pained. “I’m a…”

It was the first time Simon had seen Baz so decomposed and weary of what he was saying. Normally he had an aire of confidence about him, and was untouched by the things said about him. 

But now Baz was vulnerable, a mess of words and emotions. And all in front of Simon bloody Snow.

“I’m a…,” he tried again. “A…” 

“Use your words,” Simon said.

Baz swallowed. “I’m a  _ vampire _ , Simon. A monster.”

Simon shook his head and took another step towards Baz. He stayed where he was standing, and let Simon take his hands into his own. 

_ They were warm, _ Baz thought.  _ Warm, and rough and calloused, and _ alive.

“I don’t care who or what you are,” Simon said, his voice soft and gentle. “I can love whoever, or whatever, I want.”

“But, Simon--” Baz protested, but Simon cut him off, putting his finger to Baz’s lips, gesturing him to be quiet. 

“Shh,” he breathed. “Seriously. I don’t care about anything that’s happening outside of this.  _ Us _ .”

“But the Mage, Simon,” Baz pointed out. “You know he’ll want you to kill me. No. He’ll  _ expect _ you to. 

Baz didn’t know why he kept arguing with Simon, rejecting the affection he had been trying to give to him.

He looked down at his school shoes, too ashamed to look at Simon.  

Baz had what he wanted, right? He had  _ kissed _ Simon Snow, and then Simon Snow had kissed  _ him _ . Simon Snow was (presumably) still trying to kiss Baz, trying to get Baz to break down and give in. 

Baz had dreamed of the moment when Simon Snow would confess his love for him so many times, and this had not been one of the things he had imagined. He hadn’t expected himself to be so…tentative.

Baz stared back up at Simon, who seemed to have moved closer to him.

“Forget it all,” Simon whispered, his breath warm on Baz’s ear. “Forget everything that’s happened within the last few hours. Live in the moment. With  _ me. _ ”

Baz could only whisper. “Simon, I have to leave. You know I have to.”

“I know,” Simon answered, his voice quiet and patient. “Trust me, I know. It hurts, yeah, but it’s worth it.”

Baz’s face was stone. “Simon, you don’t want me.” 

Simon gently tugged on Baz’s hand, pulling him forward. “Yes I do,” he breathed, his mouth inches away from Baz’s.

Baz couldn’t help himself.

He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Simon’s. 

_ So the world's unfair, Keep it locked out there _

“I know it’s not fair,” Simon said, pulling away from Baz. “At all.”

Baz hummed in agreement.

"You shouldn’t have to leave, and people shouldn’t down on you,” Simon continued. “It’s like vampire oppression.”

_ "Vampire oppression _ \-- Simon, can you hear yourself?”

"I-- Yes, actually.” He shook his head. “My point remains. I don’t care what the world says or does. I don’t care what has to happen, at least, for the moment I don’t.”

Simon let out a breath and lifted Baz’s hand to his mouth. He placed a kiss on the top, then nervously played with Baz’s fingers.

"I just want to forget about it all. I just want to spend this night with you. Just let it be the two of us.  _ Please _ .”

“Simon, I can’t,” Baz said, exasperated, turning his head to the floor. “I can’t stop thinking.”

_ "Try, _ ” Simon insisted, lifting Baz’s chin up with his finger. “Don’t think. Just be here, with me. Lock it all away-- the world, the Mage, all of it. Keep it out of your mind.”

“You, me, tonight,” Baz murmured. “Just you. Just me. Just tonight.”

Simon smiled and brushed a finger across Baz’s cheekbone. “The world is a cruel place. But for now, it’s me. Just me. Only me. I’m here. I’m now. Live in the present.  _ I _ am the present.”

“There’s only you, Simon Snow,” Baz muttered before kissing Simon, an urgency and drive fueling him.

Simon smiled against Baz’s lips. “That’s more like it.”

“You.” Kiss. “Me.” Kiss. “Together.” Kiss. “Us.” Kiss. “Alone.” Kiss.

“So good,” Simon whispered. “You’re so good.  _ We’re _ so good.”

“Who needs the world?” Baz questioned, pressing a kiss to Simon’s forehead. “Who needs a saviour or a villain?”

“You’re not a villain,” Simon said, his voice soft and tender.

Baz ignored him and kept going. “Who needs the Mage? Fuck the Mage.”

“Hey, he’s not all that bad!” Simon defended.

“He’s going to make me leave. He wants you to  _ kill _ me, Simon. How is that not bad?”

“I-- I don’t know. It’s just…” He hesitated, then sighed. “The Mage is the closest thing I have to a father. I know it’s shit of me to follow him blindly, but I don’t know who else to listen to. It’s not my fault that he was there when no one else was.” 

Baz tenderly peeled Simon’s hands from his face before delicately intertwining his fingers with his own in between their bodies. “Forget the Mage,” he said, a small grin forming on his lips. “Forget him and what he says. Forget what the world says. Be here, in the moment. With  _ me _ .”

“It sounds easier than it actually is,” Simon admitted, moving his hands from Baz’s face, thumbs twiddling anxiously. “Not thinking.”

“In this moment, we can’t overthink anything. We don’t have enough time for that.”

“Well, that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” Simon sighed. “You find what’s just right for you, and by the time you realize that it’s gone.”

Baz hummed in agreement. “Sadly enough, yes. That is how it usually goes.”

_In_   _here it's beautiful, Let's make this beautiful!_

Simon thought for a moment, before reaching up and wrapping his arms around Baz’s neck. “This is the only night we’ll have together. Probably ever.”

"You’re not wrong.”

“So let’s make the most of it.”

Baz swallowed. “What does that mean to you?”

“Whatever you want it to.”

Baz suddenly looked nervous. Simon thought he could feel him shaking.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said. “I want to enjoy this night with you. It doesn’t have to be anything you’re not ready for.”

Baz was silent. Simon could tell he was still nervous, and kept going. 

“I just want you to  stay the night, Baz. Just this one night. I don’t care what we do, or don’t do for that matter, as long as I’m with you.”

Simon sighed, and looked down at the floor. “It’s just…” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “Why is it always the best love is the most fatal?”

Baz tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean take a look at the books. Orpheus and Eurydice, Gatsby and Daisy, Tony and Maria.”

“Star-crossed lovers,” Baz muttered.

“We’re doomed,” Simon said.

“Romeo and Juliet-style?”

Simon nodded. “But, I don’t care about that. What we have is special. Our love is resilient. It’s powerful, and untouchable, and above all, fucking beautiful.”

“Untouchable,” Baz laughed. It was sharp and dry. “The world has their slimy fingerprints all over our love. It’s tainted by everyone we know. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. For fuck’s sake, it  _ is _ a disaster that’s happening.”

“I don’t care how far I have to go to be with you,” Simon said, disregarding everything Baz had just said. “Just because the world has ruined things this far doesn’t mean that they’ll ruin tonight.”

“How do you know that?” Baz asked.

“Every star-crossed lover has time to be in love before the world tears them apart. This is our time. It’s now or never.”

“But Simon, you know I have to leave. How can you still want all of this, knowing that?” 

“I can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt,” Simon said, his voice low and quiet. “I know it’s going to be worse when you’re gone. But every second of heartbreak will be worth it knowing the time I spent with you was worth our while.”

Baz placed his hands around Simon’s waist, pulling him close. Closer than he was before. Close enough to kiss… 

It was Simon who leaned forward, his mouth meeting Baz’s, their noses and foreheads bumping together. 

“I just want to be with you,” Simon said when they pulled apart. 

“I do, too.”

“Then let it happen, at least for now.” 

Baz nodded and set his jaw, bringing his hands up to the sides of Simon’s face. “If this is our only night together, then let’s go all the way. You said our love is fucking beautiful,” Baz’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk before wiggling his dark, pointed eyebrows at his golden boy, “so let’s get to fucking, beautiful.”

Simon chuckled halfheartedly, before his expression dropped and his eyes widened. “Are you-- are you sure?” 

“Yes, absolutely. As long as you are.”

Simon nodded frantically in response. “I’m sure. I’m ready for this. For  _ you _ .”

_ And no more talking! _

Simon grasped the collar of Baz’s shirt, pausing with trepidation, and glancing to Baz’s eyes for confirmation. Baz gave a nod, and smiled as Simon began unbuttoning it. He shuffled his hands out of the way awkwardly when he reached the last of the buttons, and let Baz shirk it off.

Simon placed his hand on Baz’s exposed chest, over his heart. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, placing kisses all along Baz’s collar bone.

Baz stifled a moan and Simon laughed at him. “S’okay, Baz,” he said. “These things are bound to happen.”

Baz’s face flushed red. (He could practically hear Simon smirking.)

"Keep going,” Simon urged.

Baz nodded and quickly pressed a kiss to Simon’s lips before also reaching up to Simon’s own dress shirt. He hastily loosened his tie, kissing Simon again while pulling it from his neck. Baz’s hands snaked their way to the top of Simon’s trousers, and he undid the clasp. He yanked the zipper down, then tugged Simon’s trousers down to his ankles. Simon kept his mouth against Baz’s as he, too, hurriedly fumbled with Baz’s slacks. Their pants soon joined their trousers on the floor. Baz kicked them away-- he knew they wouldn’t need them until later.

For a moment Simon and Baz just stood there, admiring one another and taking everything in. The reality, the gravity, the beauty of what was happening. Of what was about to happen.

Baz ran a hand across Simon’s shoulder. Across tawny skin and moles, across silver scars and freckles. “You’re perfect,” Baz murmured in Simon’s ear, leaning forward and kissing a mole that lay on Simon’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. I’ve wanted to do  _ this _ for a long time.”

"Then let’s do it,” Simon whispered, placing his hand under Baz’s chin. Baz’s ashen skin was cold under Simon’s touch. Baz placed his hand overtop of Simon’s, and reveled in his warmth. Simon’s fingers trailed up Baz’s jawline, and then down, until they found the nape of his neck.

Baz jerked away from Simon, inhaling sharply, his eyes widened in fear and panic. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just...no one’s ever touched me there before.” 

Simon stepped forward tentatively, holding his hand out for Baz to take. “S’okay. That’s understandable.”

Baz took Simon’s hand and carefully placed it on his neck, inches away from where his bite mark lay. “Go ahead,” he said. “I trust you.”

Simon stared at him with unsure eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Simon nodded nervously, then cautiously brushed his fingers over the scar that would forever remind Baz of what he was.

Baz sucked in a breath, Simon paused, waiting for Baz to say or do something. He remained quiet, and Simon took his silence as motivation to keep going. He began to shower kisses on and around the scar, and all on Baz’s neck. 

“Simon…,” Baz muttered, spinning around and planting his lips on Simon’s. Simon noticed the drive and urgency behind it and pushed back.

“Bed,” Simon panted when they pulled apart. He tugged on Baz’s hand, pulling him over to the four-poster bed that sat on his side of the room.

In no time, Baz was straddling Simon’s hips, their mouths connected and legs laced together lazily. Baz grabbed a fistful of Simon’s hair, running his hands through thick, golden curls.

“Ready?” Baz asked, kissing every one of Simon’s moles.

Simon nodded, and planted a kiss to Baz’s lips.

The two boys soon found themselves tangled together, sweaty and out of breath. 

Nothing else mattered to them. They were there, with each other, alone and together all at once. The saviour and the villain in love, making love. What they both had wanted to do for years. 

_ Love this dead girl walking! _

Simon Snow had never experienced love.

As a child, he had moved from care home to care home, with no real family or friends. The young boy had no one in his life, and was left alone to fend for himself. His parents had given him up when he was young, and none of the boys at the care homes seemed to be willing to make friends. 

Nearly everyone in Simon’s life had told him that he was unworthy of love.

Baz (when they were still fighting each other), the Mage, the matrons at care homes. Even Agatha at times had deemed Simon unlovable (and they had dated for Crowley’s sake!). 

Sure, Penelope loved him. There were no doubts about that. But, it was a different kind of love. A platonic love, one that was typical for friends. Penny loved Simon and Simon loved Penny, but it wasn’t in the way he had longed for and dreamed of for so long.

Simon had managed to convince himself that he undeserving of love. He had managed to accept the fact that he might never find love, and that he would live his life as the Mage’s pawn, with no one to turn to.

But, that had all changed.

Baz showed Simon what love was. What it meant to be in love, and that he did deserve to be loved. That one day, he might find someone as incredible as Baz that would love him just as much, if not more. 

Baz showed Simon that love wasn’t impossible. If a runaway vampire could be in love (and make it, for that matter), then why couldn’t he? Who cared what the world said about them? About who they were and what they were doing?

Fuck it all.

All they needed in this moment was each other. They needed to be loved, to  _ feel _ loved.

And they were.

Simon grinned up at Baz as he leaned down for another kiss. This one was slower and gentler, full of meaning and  _ love. _ It was everything that Simon had wished for.

“Bloody hell,” Simon whispered when they pulled apart. He was still grinning. “For a dead vampire and a literal magical power keg, that wasn’t too bad.”

“Wasn’t too bad?” Baz repeated, chuckling. He lay down next to Simon, pulling the covers up over them. “I thought it was alright.”

“Just alright? I thought it was pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Baz met Simon’s eyes and smiled, before lifting Simon’s hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I thought it was incredible.”

“I wouldn’t trade this night for anything,” Baz said, his voice soft. “I’m glad I stayed this long. I was almost going to leave without telling you I love you…”

Simon laced his fingers with Baz’s. “I’m glad you did tell me. Otherwise, we might not have done  _ that _ . ”

Baz laughed and gave Simon a light push, in a teasing way. 

"Stay forever,” Simon uttered, his eyes fluttering shut.

Baz sighed, pushing a curl off of Simon’s forehead, and whispered, “I wish I could.”

***

When Simon awoke the next morning, Baz was gone. There was no trace of him left; he had stripped the room clean of everything that had belonged to him. It was as if no one had ever lived there at all.

Simon sighed and laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing with thought.

Baz was  _ gone _ , and Simon would never see him again. Baz was gone because he was a  _ vampire _ , sure to be stricken if he was caught. Baz was in  _ love _ with Simon, and Simon loved him back. And there was nothing Simon could do about it.

The world had damaged them. There was no reversing that. But if last night’s revelations had taught Simon anything, it’s that nothing and no one is beyond repair. 

**Author's Note:**

> a big thanks to @kirito_potter and @missanimista for reading and editing!


End file.
